How To Kill Anzu
by nobodyxreally
Summary: Meta-fic. Catherine was your average Yami/Yugi fangirl, whittling away her time writing Yaoi while somehow managing college. Of course she's dreamed about the Yu-Gi-Oh! characters coming to her dorm room. Too bad when that actually happens it's... the last character she wanted to meet. "What are YOU doing here! You know I'm going to kill you, right?" No OC romance.
1. Crossover

**Edit: Thanks to The One Called Demetra, I noticed some flaws in this story, so I edited it. This is the second version of the first chapter, so to those of you who have already read the story, the events of this chapter are wildly different, to a certain point. Sorry, not sorry.**

**Warning: This story is largely about an OC. If you are the opinion that all OC stories are shit, then you are probably right. Read at the risk of this story also being shit. There is slight consolation, though in that there is ****NO OC ROMANCE**** in this story. That means Catherine is not paired with anyone.**

**It also contains the Yami/Yugi pairing, aka Puzzleshipping. It is not the main focus, but it features prominently enough due to the nature of the OC in question, who is a Puzzleshipping author. **

**Also, some swearing. Since I've said shit a few times already, I suppose you're expecting that.**

**Explanation: This story is a metafic. Basically it is a fanfiction about fanfiction. I don't any of the characters, except the OC. Actually, I don't even own her, since she's not copyrighted. Go figure.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The first time happened when Catherine was five years old.

There should have been a bang, an explosion. A sparkle of fairy-dust. At the very least, a flash of light, something to signal _it. _Something to announce to the world the presence of the wonderful and magical. That was how things should be when the impossible happened, or so Catherine had always thought.

Instead there was nothing, just Minnie Mouse waving at her from across the park. And winking.

The universe made no concession to her need to have an announcement, so she had ending up filling the gap with yelling and flailing in the creature's direction.

"Mom, mom, mom! It's Minnie Mouse!"

Her mother had humored her by looking up. She had turned her eyes right where Catherine pointed and just said, "I don't see anything."

"But she's right there!"

Minnie had giggled, quietly as though she were in a T.V. on mute. The next few minutes were Catherine's first lesson in not drawing attention to the things she saw.

"I'm busy right now. Don't bother me." "Don't make things up." "It's a sin to lie."

The word "lie" set off one of Catherine's worst temper tantrums, which in turn got her one of the harsher smackings she'd received as a child. But she was too young to doubt herself. She hadn't learned about hallucinations or mental disorders.

Minnie slipped away during the fight that day, and never came back.

* * *

The second time was after she'd managed to forget all about Minnie.

It started with a voice this time, Cinderella's voice. She couldn't stop thinking about how pretty the lady's voice was in the movie, how pretty and nice she was in general. So she kept thinking the voice in her head, at first because she wanted to.

_A dreeaaaaaaaam is a wiiiiiiiiiish your heart makes…_

But then suddenly she was thinking it even when she didn't want to think it. It clogged up her brain whenever she had to do math homework, pushing out the numbers she needed. Then it got louder and louder until she just wanted it to stop, and then…

Cinderella was dancing outside her window. She wasn't in her sparkly blue dress, but in her the rag one. Still, she was dancing and singing, and she had to be the princess because bluebirds swooped down to accompany her. Catherine was outside in a minute, jumping up and down like a rabbit on steroids.

"Are you Cinderella?!"—a quick nod and gentle smile—"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! How did you get here?!" "How did you come to life?!" "Where are you from?" "Did you come to see me?" "Is this magic?" "What is it like being a princess?" "Can I talk to the mice?" "Can I have a fairy godmother too?"

But Cinderella didn't say much. She smiled, but her eyes never moved, never blinked. And when Catherine had seen her and heard her voice (so pretty!) and touched her dress and made absolutely sure that she was really there, the princess just went back to dancing and singing. When she called her mother again, all she got was a testy, "There's no one there, Catherine."

And then she'd remembered Minnie, and decided to say nothing else.

Cinderella stayed for a few days, always listening gently when Catherine spoke and letting her brush her hair. But the princess had the vocabulary of a talking doll, the kind that with buttons on its back that would bring about cheery, repeated phrases through smiling plastic teeth.

She got bored, and one day Cinderella was gone.

* * *

"No, seriously," Catherine said, trying but failing to keep her voice down, "There's so much I need to know!"

Molly Grue blinked.

"How _do _you people keep coming here?" she demanded, "None of the others even _said _anything about it! They just… stared. Is there like some kind of world where you all live in? Did you just pop through a door like something from Narnia or… or…?"

No response. Catherine ran her hands through her hair.

"Why _you?" _she whined, "I mean, why not the Unicorn? Amalthea. She has magic. She… I wanted to see _her."_

Nothing.

"Is it because of me? Is that why you all keep coming here instead of somewhere else? Or does it happen all the time?"

"I don't know, miss."

"But if it's not so different, then how come no one else knows about it? How come George keeps thinking I'm crazy? Am I… different? Am I doing something?"

"I don't know miss."

"That's no good! How come you don't know? I want to talk to someone else! I want Amalthea! I want to talk to someone who knows something."

"Miss…"

"How do I know you're real, anyway?"

* * *

_Avatar: the Last Airbender _was not a scary show. She didn't get to see much of it before mom decided that it was "too Eastern" and "too New Age" for her to watch it, but she liked it, and she knew it wasn't scary.

Or at least, it wasn't supposed to be. And then suddenly there was Koh.

_The Face Stealer._

And then suddenly she was having trouble sleeping at night, because all she could think about was what it was like to have your face ripped off. And how you could survive afterwards, without a mouth. Would you go blind? Would you be able to scream? To talk? Would it… hurt? How badly would it hurt?

When she told George that she was afraid (not her mother, never her mother anymore. Her mother was too busy with Peter), he laughed himself red at her for being afraid of something that didn't exist.

"But what if…?" she said, not finishing her question. She didn't even want to say it.

She went to bed telling herself that Koh would not come. Koh would not suddenly appear in her bedroom. He wouldn't be there, crawling along the ceiling… he wouldn't be looming inches above her face…

She woke up, heart pounding and face dripping with sweat. And then she heard it: the sound of centipede legs up above her, where her suddenly obscured ceiling.

"No," she mumbled, turning back over into her pillow and burying her face. "Nononononono…"

He would skitter down, come right up to the back of her head so she could feel the breath against her neck, sending chills down her spine. She tightened her grip on her pillow and buried her face deeper, barely stopping herself from shaking as she heard a sinister laugh.

The resulting week was the most terrifying and sleepless of her life.

* * *

More came, and left.

She learned to check her closet every night, since that was where she was sure the worst of them would congregate. And then she learned not to check her closet, because something banging the closet doors was better than something leaping out at your face.

She learned that it was always the same: a character from a book, movie, or T.V. show. Not anything else, such as something she made up on her own.

She learned that they all had the same dull look when they first came. None of them were talkative, at first, but the more she talked to the better they got at responding.

Ginger the horse kicked down everything in her room. Lilliputians yanked her hair into knots and giggled before escaping underneath her bed. Occasionally a tolerable character showed up and she'd vomit out all of the things she didn't get to talk about with real people. But they'd always leave after smiling and nodding and saying what she later realized was nothing but empty words that she wanted them to say.

She started to want them gone.

* * *

Gandalf told her it was her fault.

"Your mother has told you magic is evil," he said with a voice that mimicked the priest that had given the sermon on why _Harry Potter_ and _Dungeons and Dragons_ were evil, while _Lord of the Rings_ and _Narnia_ were not.

"Yeah," she said, sniffling.

"It is your own doing that this keeps happening. You have invoked dark magic."

Her lower lip trembled. "But I didn't mean too! If I was doing it on purpose, I would have brought someone from Yu-Gi-Oh!"

(Yu-Gi-Oh was something she'd gotten into around this time, thanks to a kid at school lending out the disks. She felt guilty about watching it at home without asking for her mother's permission but… well, who cared if no one knew about it?)

(Come to think of it, why _hadn't _a Yu-Gi-Oh character show up at some point? Just the thought of Yami showing up gave her tingles…)

"It doesn't matter what you meant. What matters is what you have done."

According to Gandalf, thoughts could be sins, feelings could be sins, and this was definitely a sin. And it was her fault, because she wanted it to happen. Or something like that.

The people at church agreed that miracles came from God and magic was from the devil, because it was basically power that didn't come from God. Which meant it was evil. So, if this was magic, and it was because of her, then she was evil.

(The people at Church said Gandalf was a representation of a priest, so she knew he would agree with them.)

"But doesn't everything come from God, if he made everything?" she argued. "Shouldn't everything be good then?"

Such arguments with her mother usually ended with her going to her room and crying and begging God not to send her to Hell. But after she decided to not be a whiney little bitch, it was easy for her to realize, no, nothing her mother or church said made sense, so there was no need to feel guilty about it. And then she turned on Gandalf.

"You're not the real Gandalf," she said, "You're not the real anything. You're just some jerk I'm imagining in a silly hat. Now leave, and never come back."

That was the first time she sent a character away.

* * *

"Jesus Christ."

"The one and only," replied the Son of Man, as cheerfully as that long-haired gospel youth group leader might have.

Catherine plopped down on her bed, and sighed. "I'm literally insane," she mumbled.

"Yes."

"Off my rocker."

"Probably."

"This keeps happening. Why won't it stop?"

"Actually," Jesus said, "I'm real. Insane though you may be, you are not imagining this. Feel the wounds in my hands and…"

"Yeah, yeah," she waved at him to shut up, "I read that Bible verse, okay? Say something original."

"Something original."

She scowled. "Ya know, I'm pretty sure God isn't supposed to be… sarcastic. I don't remember you having a sense of humor in the Bible."

"Oh come on. The Divine must amuse itself somehow. Why do you think you came into existence?"

She glared. "So, you're real?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Prove it."

Jesus looked affronted. "The true believer walks by faith."

"No, that's what a true idiot does. So prove stuff." She blinked, "You know my brother Peter?"

"I know everything."

"Then you know what happened to him."

"Yes."

"So fix him."

Jesus sighed so gently that she wanted to smack him in the face. "I cannot," he said, "Because some things are meant to be."

"Pfft."

"Your brother will be all the greater for his suffering."

"Bullshit. He's already a good person. He tried to have a funeral for his hamburger when he found out it was made of animal meat for God's sake!"

Jesus raised an eyebrow at the expression.

"Are you going to tell me that a kid who makes Christmas cards for everyone in his class, even the kid that beat him up, isn't good enough to get to heaven without more suffering?"

"Some suffering is due to the sins of those who came before."

"You're full of shit, you know that? You know what we call making one person suffer because of what someone else did? Do you know what we call that on earth? We call that bullshit. You're the lamest god ever, if you even are real."

"Catherine…"

"Lalalalalala! I can't hear you, because you're imaginary, and I'm just imagining this, and it'll all be gone in the morning. Go away! You don't exist!"

Jesus didn't go away, but looked at her wearily.

"Didn't you hear me? I said go away. Or is there something monumentally important that you wanted to tell me?"

"Just one thing," he said, "Looking at all that yaoi fanfiction will probably land you in Hell. Just FYI."

She spluttered and turned bright red. He had vanished before she could think of a comeback.

* * *

She decided two things. 1) She wasn't crazy. She might be imagining things, or she might not (the White Fang instance made her think there might be some kind of reality to it…) but she refused to think about it one way or another. Either way, she wasn't crazy because she could still go to school and get good grades.

2) She would ignore any weird characters popping up _unless _they were characters she liked. Unfortunately that never happened.

"Why do I get things like _you?" _she complained to the most recent one.

"Me-sa no know. Me-sa think…"

"Oh just shut up, will you?"

She learned to ignore the annoying ones and avoid the frightening ones, though even those weren't such a big deal when she was older and had stopped thinking there were monsters under her bed (it took her longer to get to that point than most children). Sometimes, she amused herself with the tolerable ones. Most of the time, she didn't.

They stopped appearing in her room, and instead remained outside. She never invited them in. Eventually, they stopped showing up at all.

* * *

She was nineteen. She was in college. They hadn't showed up for years.

She spent her free time browsing the internet and writing fanfiction, which she had gotten into via Yu-Gi-Oh and which had gotten her into… other stuff. _Hot _stuff, normally involving some spiky-haired lookalikes.

She stayed up until 1:00 a.m. and no one would stop her. She didn't have to deal with her mother, George, or Peter, except for those calls that her mother kept making.

("How are things there, baby girl?"

She hated that nickname. "Fine."

"Make any friends?"

_No. _"A few."

And then there was never much else to say. Seriously, why did her mother even bother calling?)

She still fantasized about meeting Yu-Gi-Oh characters, occasionally, though she didn't actually _hope _it would happen. Her fangirlish fantasies had normally involved Yami and a lot of sexy smirking, sometimes with Yugi along, sometimes not. When Yugi was along, there still tended to be sexy smirking, this time coupled with some nuzzling and some chaste and not-so-chaste blushes.

(Yes, she was shallow, and she didn't care.)

But she hadn't had a character visit in years. It was safe to fantasize about such things.

…or so she thought.

* * *

5:13 p.m. She'd posted Chapter 1 of her latest fanfic early in the morning. The review had come in around afternoon.

_Okay, so the writing style is okay… but seriously? Vampires? That's been done a thousand times. And Anzu wouldn't cheat on Yugi! What's that all about? I know you probably feel the need to bash her so you can hook up Yami and Yugi, but that's sooo out of character._

The rest of the review was a rant about how she had mischaracterized Anzu. She brushed it off. Anzu was a bitch. That was the #1 rule of Yu-Gi-Oh. She said as much in her response. That should have been the end of it. _Should _have, though she found herself thinking of more reasons Anzu was a bitch throughout the day.

But then she got a knock on her door…

She hadn't stopped secretly wanting to meet Yu-Gi-Oh characters, true. So she should have expected this. Still, it had been so long…

"What. The fuck," she hissed to her unexpected visitor, "Are _you _doing here?"

The girl outside of her door blinked blue eyes at her. "I don't know."

She hoped for a second it was a cosplayer playing a joke on her. But she hadn't told anyone about her love for Yu-Gi-Oh. Not at college. And besides that, there was a kind of quality to cosplay lacking here, a sort of too-bright-for-the-wearer's-face quality, a fakeness in the color and the cut and stiches that screamed "costume." This was all the right colors for the outfit, but they blended in with the wearer, fit the character perfectly.

"Anzu. You're Anzu," she said, deciding that no matter how sure she felt she still needed confirmation.

Anzu nodded. Catherine's fingers started massaging her temples. She snapped out of her thoughts when the girl started to come closer.

"Oh no you don't!" she snapped at the fictional girl, "I didn't say you could come in!"

Anzu stopped, looking at her with the expression of a puppy tossed outside in the rain. Funny. Catherine thought "puppy eyes" were more Yugi's style, not to mention how puppy metaphors in general were more Joey's shtick. Anzu was more…

"What?! What's your problem?!" Anzu, her eyes suddenly sparking like an electric wire.

…_bitchy, _she finished her sudden change took her aback, but Catherine didn't miss a beat. "Well, _you, _obviously."

"I'm the problem? You're the one who brought me here!'

"No," Catherine said, though she knew it was probably true. "No, I didn't. You are literally the last person I would want to see. Go away."

Anzu's jaw set. "I'm not going anywhere."

_Of course s_he'd refuse. She was, after all, a bitch.

"Yes, you are," Catherine said. "Begone, thou nonexistent menace!"

Nothing happened. Anzu blinked. Catherine suddenly felt silly. "You seriously thought that would work?"

"Oh shut up. I don't _like _you, and you're not coming in. That's that. The only reason you're in my fic is because… well, none of your business, but I'm killing you off around the middle. Bye!"

The horrified look on Anzu's face just before she shut the door was immensely gratifying.

* * *

She found Anzu camped outside her door the next morning.

"Oh my God," Catherine said. She seriously didn't have enough caffeine to deal with this. "Did you just… stay out here the whole night?"

Anzu shrugged. "Like I have anywhere else to go?"

Catherine frowned. She hadn't gotten this much back-sass from anyone since… well, Jesus. Terrifying thought, that. She locked her door, keeping her eyes on the girl, and left, muttering, "Obsessive bitch," just loud enough for the girl to hear. "I'm so killing you even harder for this."

She came back after a day of seething and thinking up new, creative ways to kill off the girl outside her door and simmering in her hatred. Anzu was still there, though clearly tired. She was slumped against the wall, with dark circles under her eyes.

"Why are you still here?" she asked harshly. "You know this qualifies as harassment? Stalking?"

Anzu blinked slowly, the way someone did when they had pulled an all-nighter. "I don't have anywhere else to go. Didn't I tell you that? It's like… rules…"

"Whatever." Catherine got out her key, "I think you'll get run over by a train. Sound nice?"

She put her key in the keyhole, turned it, briefly wondering aloud, "You didn't use any freaky magic to get into my room did you?"

She wasn't surprised when the fictional character snorted. "I can't," she said, "I can't go in unless you invite me."

"What are you, a vampire?"

Anzu gave a contemptuous, "Psssh." Her eyes fluttered. Catherine realized the gesture was out of tiredness. "No."

"Well, good."

She went in her room and locked it again.

* * *

When she came back from classes on the third day, she decided it was getting out of hand.

"You're still here?" she demanded, barely keeping her voice down to the volume where no one would hear and be concerned about her talking to herself. "What's _with _you?! Have you even slept or ate or… wait… do you even need to?"

Anzu fixed a heavy glare on her. "Yes," she said, coolly. "I'm hungry. I'm tired."

Catherine blinked. Well, she hadn't expected that. None of the others had mentioned anything about hunger or tiredness. "Then why the hell are you still here? Shoo! You're annoying the crap out of me."

The girl's blue eyes flickered angrily. "Well," she said, "I'm so sorry for adding to your enormous list of problems. I bet you're just so miserable sitting in that nice warm bed of yours… not having to worry about being killed by some psycho fangirl. Murderer."

Catherine looked away for a second. One couldn't murder something that didn't already exist, but arguing the point with said nonexistent character was beyond insane. "Whatever," she said, "I'm thinking: fire. Does being barbecued sound nice to you? No?"

Anzu scowled. Catherine went back to her room, and suddenly felt something inside her turn to jelly.

_She'll go away. You just have to keep refusing to let her in. The others went away. She's probably just… lying about the hunger._

She opened her laptop, finding she had a reply back from that one reviewer.

It was pretty much stuff she'd heard before. _Anzu isn't bad, she doesn't actually give a lot of speeches compared to Yami and the other characters, how is she hypocritical? She hardly pursued Yami at all besides that one incident in the manga, Yugi's the one that set them up after that, blah, blah, blah… Bakura has done much worse, and he's a good guy in your story. Does Anzu not get the same slack because she's a girl?_

Oh great. A _feminist _critic. Now she was being accused of being misogynistic for not liking some anime character. Great. She was a girl herself; it wasn't possible for her to be misogynistic.

Right?

She went back to the door and opened it, happily finding no one around. Anzu was still there, and she jerked her head up when the door opened.

"You," Catherine said, pointing at her, "Are a waste."

Anzu didn't say anything.

"You're bossy. You're opinionated. You do nothing but spout friendship speeches. I don't care if everyone in the show does it, at least they do something else! You don't do anything but preach and have a crush on a guy. I am _not _misogynistic for not liking you. Get it? There's nothing feminist about you! You don't fight your own battles. You don't take part in the plot. You don't help anyone. You're just there to be eye-candy and be the token female love interest, because Heaven help us if two guys actually fell in love!"

Anzu didn't respond; she just blinked. Her eyes were, if possible, even duller than when she'd first seen her. Catherine suddenly thought: _Because she's too exhausted to get angry. _Which caused a guilty little twitch inside her

"God, why do you even exist?" she snapped, "You're worthless. There's a _reason _no one likes you, okay? So get lost."

She slammed the door and got back to her laptop. A few clicks later, her stomach wasn't agreeing with her.

Guilty. She felt… guilty. Why? Anzu wasn't real! She was just another manifestation of Catherine's… whatever it was. A sort of hallucination that Catherine had long since adapted to seeing around. Or some crazy magic that she didn't even want to _begin _to get involved with.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. And she refused to feel guilty about it.

But…

She remembered playing Legend of Zelda: Twlilight Princess. Or rather, watching George play it. It was an adventure game, not the sort you could choose to be the bad guy, but she'd still found out there were plenty of "options" if one was creative enough. You could hit the goats with arrows and they'd cry and run away. You could beat your horse until she whinnied.

There was never any blood or gore to it. Just the noises and the animals shying away. Still, Peter had cried. Literally cried, with tears and snot and everything.

"You're such a baby," George had said, "They're not real. They don't feel anything."

Catherine remembered yelling at him. And… wheeling Peter out? No, this was before he needed a wheelchair. She had taken him out and yelled at George. She didn't know what she'd said. But she'd thought afterwards that it didn't matter if they could feel or not. It mattered what _you _did, and what _you _felt, and why would you ever even want to do something like that?

"I'm way too nice," she muttered to herself, heading to the door.

Anzu was curled up out there, and she jerked up as the door opened.

"Get up," she said, "Come in."

Anzu barely reacted, but nodded, standing up. She walked into the room.

"You can sleep in my bed for now," she said. It was a bunk bed, with a top that was lacking in sheets and blankets and pillows, but Catherine didn't feel like making her climb up the latter and sleep without any coverings. "Did you want some pajamas or…?"

Anzu plopped unceremoniously on the bed, and buried her face in the pillow. In a few minutes, Catherine heard heavy breathing, the steady kind that one had when they actually fell asleep. She went to her desk to browse the internet, but found herself glancing back.

"I'm still going to kill you," she mumbled.

That was true. It was harder to feel smug about it, though, when she saw Anzu unconsciously burying herself deeper into the pillow, just like _she _had, back when she had gone to sleep with monsters in the room.

* * *

**In case anyone is confused, the major plot difference in this version from the last one is that Catherine has been bringing characters to life from the start in this one, while in the previous version Anzu was the first time it happened.**

**Hope you enjoyed the story. Please review, and tell me what you thought. Flames are welcomed. Honest criticism is treasured. And if anything about the story confuses you, or you think it doesn't make sense, please tell me. But even if you don't respond, thank you for reading!**


	2. (Not) Getting to Know You

**Warning: This story contains an OC. As everyone knows, OC stories are practically 100% shit. If you continue, this story may be crap. However, there is slight consolation in that there will be **_**NO OC ROMANCE. **_

**Catherine will not be paired with anyone. Not a canon character, nor another OC. I hope this is some consolation.**

**Further warning: Slight Puzzleshipping. Yaoi. Shonen-ai. Nothing graphic, but it's there in the story-within-the-story, of sorts.**

**I don't own anything here, and I don't make money off of it.**

**Anyway, with that in mind, I hope you enjoy the story!**

* * *

She came back late to find Anzu still dead amongst her pillows and blankets, practically drooling in her sleep. Actually, not "practically;" she _was _drooling. All over her nice new pillow too. Catherine wrinkled her nose and grabbed another pillow (there were several on the bed—she like the extra comfort) and took a spare blanket out of the cupboard. She tossed them up to the top bunk, resigning herself to sleep on the top bunk for the night.

She hated it, but it was doable. After all, she was exhausted from staying up late and yet getting hardly any work done, and having no fun to boot. It was pretty easy to fall asleep, even with her eternal fear of falling off (the top bunk had no railings; she wanted to kill whoever designed it) and her lack of her usual blankets and pillows.

When she woke up late (thankfully her only class that day was late in the afternoon) it was easy enough to convince herself that the last day or so had just been a dream. Or a bizarre hallucination. Maybe she needed to lay off the fanfiction a little. Get some sunlight. Talk to some real people for once. Or maybe she needed to have her water bottles checked for traces of drugs.

"Hey! You! Writer lady!"

Catherine groaned, and rolled over, in the direction opposite where the sound was coming from.

"Talking to you, here! You've been asleep ten hours. I think you can wake up for five minutes to tell me if I can eat something. Hey!"

She rolled back over and opened her eyes, groaning again at what she saw. Anzu, of course, hadn't conveniently vanished, but was standing with her head tilted up to look at her with arms crossed and brows knitted in a glare. "What?"

"I'm hungry. Could I have some breakfast bars? Please?" words were polite; the tone wasn't

"Just get them," she mumbled, turning back over.

"Thank you!"Anzu sounded more relieved than grateful, and with a definite undertone of: _It's about time_. Catherine soon heard the ripping of plastic wrappers and some unpleasantly loud munching and swallowing, followed by satisfied "Mmm" noises. She tried to go back to sleep in spite of all of it but instead found herself waking up more and more. Finally, she sat up and fumbled her way down, rubbing her eyes. Anzu was busy stuffing her face with more of the breakfast bars.

Catherine rubbed her eyes. "Are you doing to down my protein bar collection on top of everything else?"

Anzu had to swallow before replying. "Oh shut up. I haven't eaten since I came here. And I had to wait until _you _woke up and said I could eat," she took another bite.

"So you were hungry?"

"Ell muh," she said, muffled through the food. "I mean. Well, duh."

Catherine rolled her eyes and yawned, then started toward the closet to get a change of clothes. In about thirty minutes, she had showered, dressed, and pulled her hair into her usual ponytail. She stepped outside to find her new-but-hopefully-temporary roommate on her laptop.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't think Anzu could get on her account, since it was passworded, but…

"These are your stories?" she asked, "So where's the delete button?"

She lunged forward, snatching the laptop away and snapping it shut. "How did you know my password?"

"'Yugiyami5evah?'" Anzu shrugged. "I have no idea actually. So those were your stories? What do you write about? Besides, y'know, what you already told me."

"None of your business," she said quickly, putting the laptop under her arm. "What did you read?"

Anzu huffed. "You're kinda insecure aren't you?"

Catherine glared. "You're kind of asking to get kicked out if you don't tell me."

Anzu rolled her eyes and raised her hands, in a mocking "I surrender" gesture. "Not much. Just a few sentences. Something about rolling gray skies? Watercolor moonlight? I got the impression it was nighttime or something."

She nodded, satisfied that she hadn't read much, and watched as the brunette's arms lowered and folded stiffly again. They both glared at each other for a minute, before Catherine broke it off. "Look, we need to talk."

"Like those are ever good words to hear," Anzu muttered.

"Seriously," Catherine put her laptop down cautiously on her bed, "I don't know what you're thinking, but if it's that I suddenly like you now just because I let you in yesterday, then get that idea out of your head. Now. I don't like you, and I don't want to deal with you or your general bitchiness. Okay?"

The girl's eyes flared at her, but she said nothing.

"However," she continued, "Since you are here, there's a few things that we need to get straight. That _I _need to get straight." She sat down on the bed next to her laptop.

"Like?"

"Like all of this," she waved her arms in a big circle as though to demonstrate, "Like why the hell are you here? _How a_re you here? How do you even exist? How long are you going to be in this world? Where did you _come f_rom? Am what does it have to do with me? What am I supposed to do?"

Anzu blinked, then flipped the chair around to face her better. There were subtle lines around her face, lines of tension and suspicion. Then, they sagged into reluctant defeat. "Those are all good questions."

"Yeah, I agree. So…?"

The fictional girl looked away.

"So are you going to answer them then?"

Anzu shook her head.

"What? You…"

"I don't know."

"Huh?"

Anzu flicked her eyes back at her. "I don't know any of that. I suddenly found myself here yesterday—and by here, I mean, inside right outside your door—and I don't know how, or why. There wasn't like, Isis or anyone to tell me what was going on." Her expression suddenly stiffened, and became guarded. "There are just a few things that I'm certain of. Like programmed information in my head, or something."

Catherine nodded. "Alright then," she said, "What sort of information?"

"That _you," _Anzu pointed her finger, "Are the one that brought me here. That's one thing."

She frowned. "I don't think that can be right. You sure you don't have it wrong? That it wasn't some kooky ancient Egyptian artifact you remember flashing before you showed up here? Because I wasn't messing with anything, and I certainly didn't want you to come. You are literally the last person I would have wanted."

"Nope," the fictional girl said, "Dead sure. I'm here because of you, somehow."

That wasn't the case, Catherine was sure, but she decided to let it go for now. "Fine. What else are you sure of?"

"Well, some kind of past. I mean, my past," she frowned, "But it's really weird."

"What do you mean? You mean, card games being used to save the world weird?"

"No. Well, I mean, yes, but that's not the weird part," she gave a short, sharp laugh, "Ha! I never thought I'd say that. But what I mean is… I can remember two pasts. And they both contradict each other. One of them is what you said. Saving the world with card games, Yugi being possessed by an Ancient Egyptian Pharaoh…" she paused, "It's blurry, though. Like a dream. And the other one is even blurrier."

"What is it?"

"Well," she said, "No card games, for one thing. Also, for some reason there's no Millennium Puzzle and we're all in late high school. The Pharaoh has his own separate body. Aaaand for some reason, I was dating Yugi, but I… we broke up. That's all I know."

"You mean you cheated on him?" Catherine asked.

Anzu smiled stiffly in a mockery of sweetness. "Yes. I thought you'd know that. Which brings me to the next point." She took a deep breath. "I…"

"What?"

"I just have a feeling…" Anzu swallowed, "It's like the sudden flashes of information I get, like with knowing you are a writer or what ever but…" she shook her head.

"But what?"

"I think… you created me."

Catherine's jaw slackened.

"I'm in your story, right?" she asked, "You're a writer. I know that. For some reason, I keep getting these mini-floods of information when I'm around you. Like, a while back I suddenly reme—realized you had two brothers. Your password; I suddenly knew what it was. But the first thing I knew was that you were a writer. And somehow, by writing me into a story, you… you…"

"Nope!" Catherine stood up, "No, that's… no. Just…"

"I'm serious! Everything before showing up at your door seems unreal... like I..."

"No, no you aren't. You're joking. Or lying. Or wrong."

"I-"

"Shut up!" she snapped.

Surprisingly, Anzu obeyed, though her jaw set so hard that Catherine could see the muscles in her face tense.

"I'm going out. Doing things," she said, snatching up her backpack and hastily packing the laptop in it, "Don't touch any of my stuff. _Any _of it, okay? No sneaking onto my laptop or phone or…" she caught the girl's sarcastic expression, "…Yes, I'm taking those, but I don't care! Don't look through any of my things, got it?!" For some reason she was starting to sound shrill.

"Can I at least…?"

"No," Catherine said before she could finish. She grabbed her phone on the desk and was about to leave when suddenly she saw Anzu standing resolutely in front of the door. She grit her teeth. "What are you doing?"

"What's w_rong w_ith you?" Her glare was fiery. _Blue fire, _Catherine's pretentious author-brain told her, before the reasonable side of her brain told it to shut up. "I tell you the truth, and you're just going to run off?! Take some responsibility!"

"I-"

"And I think I deserve answers too! You're acting like I'm some kind of… kind of rat or something. Like I'm not human."

"That's because you're not," Catherine said. Anzu looked like she'd been slapped, but she told herself that she did _not _care, because it was the truth. "You are a fictional character, probably a hallucination or something that shouldn't exist in this world. I never liked you in the first place, and now you've drooled all over my pillow, to boot. You're lucky I'm tolerating you as much as I am. Now…"

"You- you jerk!" Anzu burst, flipping between bewilderment and anger and something else that glittered in between, "You—argh! You think that just because you… I…" her fists clenched and trembled, "The first thing you tell me is that you're going to kill me and you think I should be _grateful?"_

Catherine's mouth opened to form a response. Finally, she said, "Let me leave."

"I can't _eat _unless you tell me I can! You're just going to leave me to st-"

"Eat whatever you want," she replied, quickly, "Make yourself comfortable. Stuff like that. I just don't want snooping, 'kay? Kay. Now _move."_

Anzu did, storming past her vision. Catherine left as quickly as she could without it looking like she was bolting.

It was hours until her class, but she didn't care. She just had to get out of there.

_The first thing you tell me is you're going to kill me…_

Fear. That had been fear in those blue eyes. Fear for her life.

Catherine headed straight to the library, hoping to drown herself in music and fanfiction until class started.

* * *

Of course, after the encounter on the midnight streets of Domino the night before, Yugi couldn't sleep. The stranger followed him, not in any literal sense, no, but in his thoughts. His shadow seemed to be there every time Yugi had a moment to think. And each time the shadow flitted over his consciousness he felt his heart beat faster, his blood pulse in a way it hadn't since… since…

But he didn't want to think of her now, not when thinking of her felt like scratching open a wound that had barely had time to heal. And it was so easy now to put her out of his thoughts. There was something else to occupy that achingly empty space, a shadow that seemed to draw him in moment by moment.

How could one man whom he'd spoken to for less than an hour have such an effect? Yugi banged his head on his pillow. Well he _had _been attractive, no doubt about that. A blush rose to his cheeks just thinking about him. But that was no excuse. There were millions of attractive people in the world. Supermodels. Actors. Faces plastered on billboards.

He felt there was something else; a magnetic pull, something deep inside his soul that called out to the stranger. But he told himself it was his imagination.

A sudden, undeniable connection at first sight? _Love _at first sight? He laughed at himself, sadly. He really was so desperate after the break-up. So lonely. So _empty. _His heart was willing to latch onto anyone to fill him again.

That was all. That was it. Loneliness, combined with physical attraction, had a deadly effect.

Still his heart couldn't stop fluttering at the thought that he might meet the stranger again. Not that it would matter even if he did. Anyone would have laughed at the immature obsession he was feeling now, and he was sure the stranger was no exception. He wasn't even sure if the man was… well, into other guys. And even if he was… well, the last thing Yugi wanted to do was open himself up for more heartbreak.

So why, when night came, did his feet step towards the streets of their own accord? Why did he find himself drifting toward the coffee shop, and the back alley where they had spoken?

Why did he find his heart leaping as a shadow flitted across the alley?

* * *

Catherine frowned. She didn't like it, she decided, but she saved it nonetheless. The writing was a bit clumsy this time around, a bit too much explaining and not enough showing. She'd have to edit it later, take out the more obvious lines and add in some more subtle, elegant ones.

She didn't go back to her room after class, though she was sweaty from being up in the art attic for the past two hours and really wanted to lay down somewhere and let her back rest (she'd taken clay sculpture as an elective; it sounded like fun at the time, but the long hours and the fact that the workspace had broken air conditioning and the annoying detail of having to sit on a stool half the time made the class a bitch).

She went to the library and wrote, instead. She told herself that she'd write more of that History paper but of course ended up writing fanfiction. Of course. She hadn't really expected herself to get any real work done; she had simply become accustomed to telling herself lies.

Luckily, though, as fanfiction writing went this day was particularly productive. She got 3,000 words written in a few hours, and even got halfway through Yugi and Yami's second meeting. It was sloppy, and she'd have to edit it later, but it was _there, _which was the important part. After getting that much done she took a break, ate at the cafeteria, and did actual homework. Again, at the library.

She knew she was being evasive, and she didn't give a damn.

It was 12:00 p.m. when she got back to her room. She had hoped to find Anzu asleep, or gone. No such luck. The girl was sitting at the chair by her desk, turned to look at the door. Waiting for her. Catherine shivered a little, telling herself it was the nighttime cold. She walked in (her room, dammit, she wasn't about to be intimidated) and set down her stuff, not looking in the direction of the desk.

She somehow managed to go and change into her pajamas (in the bathroom, of course), get her backpack read for the next day, and rearrange books on her shelf without saying anything or looking in _her _direction. Not that it was possible to forget she was there. She could practically feel the glare burned in her back every time she was turned the other way.

Finally, she broke and glanced up at the other girl, just for a second. She didn't look as angry as Catherine had expected; instead, dullness had settled in again underneath the glare. Catherine sighed.

"So…" she started, in spite of herself.

Anzu didn't respond.

"Did you just… stay in here all day?"

The girl's gaze focused a little. "Yes."

Catherine shrugged. "Okay. Well… what did you do?"

No answer.

She took a breath. "Okay, so… I'm guessing you're going to be here for a while?"

"You're guessing," Anzu repeated snidely.

"I'll take that as a yes," Catherine replied, glaring at her. "So… I guess we should talk about rules. First, you can leave and come back whenever you want. You don't need to be worried about me suddenly locking the door on you while you're out. Okay?"

"Okay." Anzu didn't seem happy at this.

"Second, I'm sleeping on the bottom bunk. We can get you sheets and stuff for the top bunk later, but for now you can just rough it, because I'm not that nice. Plus, I'm the one who has to get up at 6:00 A.M. most mornings. So… yeah."

"Hm."

"Third… uh…" Catherine gulped, "Actually, I don't have a third in mind but I'm sure something will come up, so… we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

She sat down on her bed, and was about to get into the covers and turn over and go to sleep, when she gave Anzu one last look. The girl was turned away from her now, facing the desk, but her eyes were turned toward the window. She was… daydreaming? Was that it? A thought suddenly occurred to her.

"You don't have pajamas. You've been wearing the same clothes since… since you came," Catherine said, sniffing. "I'm surprised you don't stink. Is that a fictional character thing?"

Anzu snorted.

"You can use my spare pair of pajamas. They're… in the top drawer."

When the girl didn't move to get it, Catherine shifted uncomfortably. "Something on your mind? Something you might want to run past me?"

"You might as well get it over with."

Catherine blinked. "Um… what?"

"You know what," Anzu turned to look at her. "You said you'd kill me. Something tells me you mean it, just like I know that you have two brothers and that your favorite subject is English. So just get it over with."

Her throat suddenly felt dry.

"I mean, I don't _know w_hy I suddenly have less rights than cattle, but whatever. Just get it over with. Right now. Whatever it is you're planning… just do it," her voice cracked.

"Um…" Catherine started awkwardly, "No need to be so dramatic."

"_Dramatic?" _Anzu hissed, "This is my life!"

"Well… not necessarily. I mean, it's possible you'll keep on living even after you die in the story. I mean, considering you're not supposed to be alive in the first place, anything is possible. Right?"

Anzu didn't seem convinced. "Well then, do it now. Let's find out."

"Uh…"

Anzu slammed her fist on the desk, then whirled around to shoot daggers at her with her eyes. "You don't get it. I don't want to sit around waiting! I can't stand this! I can't!" she choked.

Catherine shifted uncomfortably again. "Well… I…" she gulped, "There's actually more planned for you in the story. I mean… you don't die until a certain point. So… that's not happening. Right now."

She shuffled under the fictional girl's glare, and looked away for a moment, before turning back. Anzu's face had gone from a glare to weak, dismayed stare. Suddenly she looked very… young. Small. How old was she anyway? She was about sixteen in the manga… Catherine herself was nineteen. The thought sobered her. _She's younger than me. She's… a kid. _She smothered the notion in her head almost immediately. Anzu might have been sixteen in canon, but in Catherine's story she was… older. As old as Catherine herself. _So I don't need to feel guilty for yelling at a kid._

"So, you don't have anything to worry about," she almost bit her tongue as she said it, "I mean, uh… things can change in the story, you know. We'll have to see."

"You don't mean that," the fictional girl's voice was resolute. "You're trying to pacify me. You're not actually going to change the story."

Catherine hadn't been, no. Her spine chilled at the idea that the other girl could know her thoughts so well. "Well, you can't know that," she snapped at her. "Anyway, just take a shower, get some pajamas on…. Whatever. We can… we can talk about all this later. Now it's late."

Neither of them turned away from the resultant staring contest for a long time. Finally, Anzu turned sharply and went to the drawers, and Catherine let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. In a little while the fictional girl had taken the spare pajamas to the bathroom and the shower was running. Catherine took the opportunity to rip out her top comforter and throw it up to the top bunk, along with a few pillows. Then she slipped into remaining covers and turned over, shutting her eyes tightly. In a little while she heard the shower stop and Anzu was climbing up without further comment and plopping down on the mattress up top.

"You can have those blankets and stuff for now," Catherine said.

"Hm."

Catherine waited for her to say something. When she didn't, she felt an ugly emotion well up in the silence. It was the sort of feeling she remembered getting as a kid when she'd fought tooth and nail for a toy and raised all hell to get it, only for Peter or George to say, "Fine, you have it." It was like missing a stair when you were walking in the darkness, combined with a strange empty dissatisfaction. Not wanting it, she babbled. "You know, I can't have created you."

No answer.

"You see, I don't own you. Or any characters, actually. Um, you were created by a guy called Kazuki Takahashi. He wrote the story—manga—and without him you wouldn't be here. I didn't think of your name, description, personality… anything. I'm just a fan of the show, and I write fanfiction. It's not the real thing," Catherine waited for an answer, but didn't get one, "So… I'm just saying. It's impossible."

She heard a snort from the top bunk. "So why aren't I… wherever he is?"

"I don't know," she replied.

When there was more silence, she found herself babbling. "And it's not my fault if he didn't make you a good character. Or if you didn't appeal to me. I mean, you were just kind of… there in the story, you know? Not really doing much. Not to mention all of that pathetic stuff with your crush. And you didn't really have any problems, just all… friendship and stuff. I mean, you weren't trapped in a puzzle like Yami or abused like Kaiba or isolated like Yugi. You were just all happy with your dance lessons and your friendship…"

She was silenced by a sharp, "Ha!"

Catherine blinked, thrown off balance, "What?"

"Oh, nothing," the voice from the top bunk was poisonously sweet, "I was just thinking that it's not enough for you, is it? That you can kill me whenever you want, that you can tell me you will and then just… _dawdle a_bout it like some… cat toying with a mouse. It's not enough that you can summon me up here like I'm a goddamn duel monster or something and strand me wherever without food or anything. No, you have to go out of your way to insult me, too. Because it's not like you could just leave me with some sort of self-worth, could you? No, let's remind Anzu that she's a piece of trash every moment we can! Let's just try to tear her apart before we kill her off!"

Catherine was the one who couldn't say anything this time. "I-" she started.

"Shut up!" Anzu hissed, "Just shut up! I don't give a damn _w_hat you think. You don't know a_nything _about me. _Anything. _So just shut the hell up and let me sleep, okay? You got enough human decency left for that?"

"I think I know…" she started indignantly, only to be cut off.

"Oh god," the girl groaned from the top bunk. Her voice was viciously low, "Well go ahead. _Tell _me how you know everything about me! Tell me that you know what my dream in elementary school was, or what my parents were like. Oh wait, do you even know their names? Well, go ahead! Let's hear it, oh omniscient one. Let's hear all the evidence you have to give me a death sentence."

She could only ask, "You didn't want to be a dancer in elementary school?"

"And there we have it, folks! Everything my judge, jury and executioner knows about me," she heard a sarcastic clap. "I can't _believe_ you. What did I ever do to you? Kill your puppy? Give your little brother cancer?"

Catherine saw red. It was her turn to shout now. "Shut up!"

"I'm such a witch, aren't I? Ooooh, look at me! I'm Anzu, the horrible evil witch who did… what exactly? Endanger herself at a water park? Have a crush on some boy? Well clearly I deserve eternal damnation."

"I don't care. I don't care about your life or your feelings or—whatever!," Catherine hissed up at her, "You wanted quiet didn't you? So shut up!"

Luckily that was the end of it. There was no reply from up top, and Catherine turned stubbornly over and shut her eyes, uncertainty and guilt twisting in her stomach.

It was a long night before she fell asleep.

* * *

**I didn't expect anyone to actually like this story. It's the kind of story only I would like, and I'm writing it more because **_**I **_**feel inspired than because I actually think it's worth anything. So I'm ecstatic at any sort of reaction it gets. Flames? Love them. Favorites? LOVE them. Follow? THANK YOU SO MUCH. Constructive criticism? I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER. In particular, I'd like to hear opinions on our two leading ladies and the dynamic they share. Who do you think is more in the wrong? Anzu? Catherine? And do you think the back and forth between them is enjoyable and believable?**

**With that in mind, thank you for reading, and please review!**


End file.
